“Stay with me,” she said.
Kell nodded, dizzy. The stone had masked the pain, but in its absence, his vision blurred with it. Rhy’s wounds layered on top of his own, and when he tried to bite back a groan, he tasted blood.
“We have to go,” said Kell. Now that the city was absent a ruler—or two—the fighting would start again. Someone would claw their bloody way to the throne. They always did.
“Let’s get you home,” said Lila. Relief poured over him in a wave before the hard reality caught up.
“Lila,” he said, stiffening. “I don’t know if I can take you with me.” The stone had guaranteed her passage through the worlds, made a door for her where none should be. Without it, the chances of the world allowing her through …
Lila seemed to understand. She looked around and wrapped her arms around herself. She was bruised and bleeding. How long would she last here alone? Then again, it was Lila. She’d probably survive anything.
“Well,” she said. “We can try.”
Kell swallowed.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she added as they made their way to the courtyard wall. “I get pulled into a hundred little pieces between worlds?” She said it with a wry smile, but he could see the fear in her eyes. “I’m prepared to stay. But I want to try and leave.”
“If it doesn’t work—”
“Then I’ll find my way,” said Lila.
Kell nodded and led her to the courtyard wall. He made a mark on the pale stones and dug the Red London coin from his pocket. And then he pulled Lila close, wrapped his broken body around hers, and tipped his forehead against hers.
“Hey, Lila,” he said softly into the space between them.
“Yeah?”
He pressed his mouth to hers for one brief moment, the warmth there and then gone. She frowned up at him, but did not pull away.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“For luck,” he said. “Not that you need it.”
And then he pressed his hand against the wall and thought of home.
II
Red London took shape around Kell, heavy with night. It smelled of earth and fire, of blooming flowers and spiced tea, and underneath it all, of home. Kell had never been so happy to be back. But his heart sank when he realized that his arms were empty.
Lila wasn’t with him.
She hadn’t made it back.
Kell swallowed and looked down at the token in his bloody hand. And then he threw it as hard as he could. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
And then he heard a voice. Her voice.
“Never thought I’d be so happy to smell the flowers.”
Kell blinked and spun to see Lila standing there. Alive, and in one piece.
“It’s not possible,” he said.
The edge of her mouth quirked up. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
Kell threw his arms around her. And for a second, only a second, she didn’t pull away, didn’t threaten to stab him. For a second, and only a second, she hugged him back.
“What are you?” he asked, amazed.
Lila only shrugged. “Stubborn.”
They stood there a moment, leaning on each other, one keeping the other on their feet, though neither was sure which needed more supporting. Both knew only that they were happy to be here, to be alive.
And then he heard the sounds of boots and swords, and saw the flares of light.
“I think we’re being attacked,” whispered Lila into the collar of his coat.
Kell lifted his head from her shoulder to see a dozen members of the guard surrounding them, blades drawn. Through their helmets, their eyes looked at him with fear and rage. He could feel Lila tense against him, feel her itching to reach for a pistol or a knife.
“Don’t fight,” he whispered as he slid his arms slowly from her back. He took her hand and turned toward his family’s men. “We surrender.”
*
The guards forced Kell and Lila to their knees before the king and queen, and held them there despite Lila’s muttered oaths. Their wrists were bound in metal behind them, the way Kell’s had been earlier that night in Rhy’s chambers. Had it really been only hours? They weighed on Kell like years.
“Leave us,” ordered King Maxim.
“Sir,” protested one of the royal guard, shooting a glance at Kell. “It is not safe to—”
“I said get out,” he boomed.
The guard withdrew, leaving only Kell and Lila on their knees in the emptied ballroom, the king and queen looming over them. King Maxim’s eyes were feverish, his skin blotching with anger. At his side, Queen Emira looked deathly pale.
“What have you done?” demanded the king.
Kell cringed, but he told them the truth. Of Astrid’s possession charm, and the Dane twins’ plan, but also of the stone, and of the way he came by it (and of its preceding habit). He told them of its discovery, and of trying to return it to the only place it would be safe. And the king and queen listened, less with disbelief than with horror, the king growing redder and the queen growing paler with every explanation.